


When It All Falls Apart

by tiredandtender



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: (sort of slow burn but not THAT slow), Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern with Bending (Avatar), F/M, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Tea shop AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:48:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25490383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiredandtender/pseuds/tiredandtender
Summary: Sokka's having a bit of a hard time. Thankfully, he has his friends, good tea, and the handsome classmate who serves it to him to help make things better.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 83





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! this is my first ever attempt at a multi-chapter, 5k+ word fic. I will admit that I'm not sure what I'm doing. if anyone has feedback, questions, comments, or concerns, please feel free to let me know.
> 
> a little about this AU - it's mostly ye olde "modern-era teenagers at school in Ba Sing Se," but I feel like clarifying a few things.  
> it's set in the ATLA universe's rough equivalent to 2020. Aang was never the Avatar, so I guess someone else took care of the hundred year war. the spirit portals are open. bending is a thing, and it hasn't really lost its sanctity - most benders take it very seriously.  
> the high school for the arts that the gaang attends is mostly like the ones in the real world. they take normal high school classes, but then they spend a few hours at the end of the day working on their art. there are bending electives, too, but I don't know if they'll have any role in the story.
> 
> I think that's about it!! I'll update this note if there ends up being anything else worth mentioning. I hope you enjoy!!

The sun was setting on the last day of classes for the week, casting a warm glow on everything its light could reach. The tea shop had huge windows along all of its walls, so when Sokka, Katara, Toph, and Aang walked in, they were enveloped in that golden light.

They went about their usual routine, crowding around a table and dropping their backpacks and various school materials on the floor. Sokka delicately placed the big plastic bin that contained his paints a little off to the side, and everyone knew that if they came near it, they’d be hit with a glare so threatening they’d have reason to worry for their lives. Aang put his laptop on the table, evidently hoping to get some more of his story done, and Toph made a beeline for the bathroom where she’d wash the clay out from under her fingernails. Katara still had her leotard on under her jacket and pants, and her hair was creased from the bun she just took out. The four of them attended Ba Sing Se’s high school for the arts, and Sokka and Katara had met Toph and Aang in an anthropology elective the year before. Now they were inseparable.

“Good afternoon! What can I get started for you guys?” a voice said from the back of the store. Sokka looked behind him for its source.

“Just a minute- Wait, Zuko? Since when do you work here?”

“Hey, Sokka. Since, like, four days ago. The other guy, I think his name was Wu, quit on my uncle and I had to replace him.”

“Your uncle owns this store?” Aang piped up. “Is it true that he _invented_ boba? I’ve heard that from, like, everyone!”

“Oh, come on. You don’t believe that, do you? It’s an urban legend. It’s way too easy to make stuff like that up,” Sokka retorted.

“It’s true, actually. He started serving it right when the shop opened, but no one really liked it for, like, ten years. He never took it off the menu, though, and here we are. And it’s pretty well-documented if you want proof,” said Zuko.

Sokka squinted at the boy behind the counter, taking him in for what felt like the first time. It wasn’t, of course — they were in the same honors physics class, and Sokka would be lying if he hadn't noticed that Zuko was cute. And hot. Cute-hot? He must have been an inch or two shorter than Sokka, his shaggy, jet-black hair hanging in his face, partially covering the pink scar that took up most of the right side of his face, which everyone knew to be from a firebending accident when he was little.

“Hmm. Some proof would be nice,” he said.

Before he could say anything else, Toph emerged from the bathroom. “I’d like a large matcha milk tea. No boba,” she declared.

“You got it,” Zuko said, grabbing a plastic cup.

—

A cerulean ring around the horizon was the only remaining evidence of the sun, and the four teenagers were still around the table in the tea shop, illuminated by friendly yellow lights. Customers had come and gone, but they’d spent most of the time as the only customers in the store.

They occupied themselves with happy chatter while Aang pecked away at his keyboard. Maybe all of those years meditating with the Airbenders had taught him to ignore distractions when he needed to. Sokka, on the other hand, found himself constantly distracted by the boy at the counter.  
“Hey, Sokka, why do you keep staring at Zuko?” Katara said, seemingly out of the blue. 

Sokka flushed a deep red. “No reason. Um. It’s… Ah… Weird to see him out in public? I’ve only ever seen him in physics. And, like, at lunch,” he stammered. “Shh! He might hear us.”

Katara lowered her voice to a whisper. “Well, I haven’t seen you look at someone like that since Suki last year. And look how _that_ turned out.”

Sokka slammed his forehead on the table. His sister knew him too well. Not even three months ago, Suki had dumped him after more than half a year of dating. Things weren’t that bad between them; they were still friends, but his heart was definitely broken, at least a little. He sat up and saw that Zuko was looking right at him. Probably because his forehead smack was pretty loud, but it still caught him off-guard.

“You’re right. I should really just give up,” said Sokka. He buried his face in his hands, hoping to quell the uncomfortable buzzing sensation in his head. It’d been there all day. He didn’t know where it came from, but he had some theories: his thoughts were going so fast that they’d begun to tangibly vibrate, or maybe it was his body’s way of crying out for help. And more sleep.

“No, don’t say that!” Toph said in her attempt at a whisper. “I wasn’t that close, but I thought I felt his heart start beating a little faster when you talked to him. You _might_ have a chance with him! Maybe.”

“I think you should try, Sokka,” Aang mumbled from behind his computer screen.

Sokka glanced at the counter, praying to every spirit he could name that Zuko hadn’t heard. Thank Raava, he was staring at his phone. And thank Raava for Toph and her observant feet. He sighed and rested his head on his arms even though the rough fabric of his jacket was going to leave an imprint. “Maybe.”

His head only buzzed louder.

—

It was officially three in the morning, and Sokka still wasn’t tired. He looked at the clock, then at the stacks of books and papers and pens scattered across his bed, then at the ceiling. What is _wrong_ with me, he wondered. He fell onto his back, held a pillow over his face, and let out a long groan. He assumed the pillow would mute it well enough, but a minute later, there was a knock on his door.

“What?” he said.

The door cracked open and Katara peered at Sokka sprawled across his bed. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing. I can’t sleep. I’m not even tired,” he said. “I don’t know what to do. Or what’s wrong with me.”

Katara tiptoed into Sokka’s room and sat at his desk chair. “That’s not good. Was there caffeine in your tea or something?”

“I got _taro_ ,” he whined, smashing his pillow into his face again. He couldn’t help but feel guilty — Katara was a year younger than him. _He_ should be the one helping _her_.

She looked at him with genuine concern in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Sokka. Maybe if this keeps going on, you should go see Dr. Song.”

“Maybe.”

“Good night. I hope you can get some rest soon.”

He didn’t. He watched the sun as it rose, then rolled out of bed to get some tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> damn writing this made me really miss getting boba with friends in pre-covid times
> 
> also I don't know why I love writing from Sokka's perspective so much. I need to write from Zuko's asap!!!!
> 
> Kudos and comments greatly appreciated <3


	2. Chapter 2

Sokka finally got some sleep right as the weekend ended. He’d spent the past two days in near-constant motion. He’d filled fifty sketchbook pages with thumbnails for four different paintings, cleaned out and organized his closet, and spent five hours straight playing Pai Sho with Aang over text. At first, Aang would beat him pretty bad, but after fifteen or so games, Sokka started going berserk, effectively kicking Aang’s nomadic butt. On top of all that, Sokka had done all of his homework with no problem — had that happened at all in the past ten years? He had no idea what was happening to him, and he didn’t think he liked it that much, but it definitely made him pretty damn productive.

Though he got sleep, Sokka was still very fatigued that morning before school. When he pulled into the school parking lot, he would have fallen asleep before he even shifted into park if Katara didn’t smack him. She usually took moments like these as opportunities to berate Sokka for his mediocre driving skills, but this time, she didn’t say anything. It was like she pitied him. He didn’t want to think about that.

Sokka and Katara arrived at the cafeteria table where their friends sat before class. Toph was in the middle of a rant.

“...Then Koko said that some first-year boy had claimed the rest of the steel and that I needed to find my own metal or do it with clay. This is so stupid! I have seniority! This is just as much my exhibition as it is his. If anything, it’s  _ more _ mine! I- Oh, hey, Sokka. Katara. How are you guys?”

“I’m alright,” Sokka yawned.

“I’m fine, too,” said Katara.

Aang gave them a cheerful wave before looking back at Toph. “That  _ is _ stupid. Maybe you could find the guy and work something out with him.”

A crafty grin spread across Toph’s face. “You’re right! I’m sure we can come to an agreement,” she said, cracking her knuckles for dramatic effect.

Aang blanched. “That’s not what I- I mean, yeah, good luck, Toph,” he said.

Before Toph could complain about her sculpture cohort any more, the bell rang. Sokka rose, feeling a little lightheaded, and waved to his friends before he headed up to his literature class.

Sokka’s literature teacher congratulated him when he turned in his homework. Was him doing his homework really  _ that _ special? When he settled down into his seat and class began, nothing he heard made any sense. It was like everyone’s voices were melting into one big jumble. Sokka held his face in his hands and let his mind drift until the bell rang again.

His next three classes were similar. By the middle of his fourth class, world government and politics, it all got to be too much. He raised his hand and asked to go to the bathroom. “Yes you may, Sokka. Now, one of the defining characteristics of the Omashu monarchy…”

Sokka didn’t go to the bathroom. He paced up and down the halls, luxuriating in the emptiness and quiet. He’d made it halfway around the building when he passed by the bending gym. Judging by the elevated temperature, there must have been Firebenders in there. Sokka tiptoed up to the door and peeked through the little rectangular window. Something like twenty kids stood in rows, going through some tricky-looking forms.

Sokka’s breath caught in his throat when he saw Zuko lunge into view, not even five paces away from where Sokka stood at the door. Zuko wore a sleeveless shirt and shorts, putting his toned muscles on full display. Damn, Zuko looked strong. His brow was furrowed in concentration, but his features still looked soft and delicate. Beautiful, really. His black hair was pulled out of his eyes into a knot, but a few strands had fallen out and framed his face. He moved so skillfully, light on his feet but grounded. Sokka was convinced he could feel the heat from the plumes of fire Zuko produced. 

Suddenly, the Firebenders pivoted to face the opposite direction. Sokka ducked below the window before Zuko could see him staring. He could feel himself blushing as he walked back to class, feeling like he was floating. Yeah, maybe he had a little crush.

— 

At lunch, Sokka discovered that his friends’ voices were doing the same melty thing as his teachers’. He  _ was _ pretty preoccupied, though. 

Sokka was jolted out of his thoughts by a punch on the shoulder from Toph. “Ow!,’ he yelped.

“Sokka, are you okay? I’ve never heard you go so long without talking, like, ever,” Toph said.

“I’m fine. Just feeling a little off. Don’t worry about me.”

“Alright,” said Toph, turning back to Aang.

Katara looked at him from across the table, worry clouding her gaze.

—

The absolute highlight of Sokka’s day was when Zuko smiled at him in physics class. They sat in the same row of desks. There were a few people between them, but the row was curved, so they could see each other pretty well. When their eyes met, Zuko tilted his head and flashed the most timid hint of a smile. Sokka, disbelieving, smiled back and threw in a little wave.  _ His uncle must have drilled that customer service attitude into his head _ , Sokka thought. At the tea shop, Zuko had been friendly and outgoing, but the Zuko that Sokka had been seeing around for the past few years was very different: quiet, timid, and shy to a fault. That made his smile all the more meaningful. Sokka’s heartbeat quickened at the thought of it. He spent the rest of class resting his chin in his hands and his head in the clouds.

—

Sokka made his way to his little corner of the art studio. He set up his paints and brushes and sat down on a stool to flip through the thumbnails he’d done.  _ Man, these are pretty good _ . He chose one of the paintings to start and went to grab a canvas.

“I hope you’re starting to think about what you’re going to put in the exhibition,” said Hana. Hana was one of the painting teachers, a stooped old woman who smelled like herbs with white hair that she always wore in a bun.

“Oh, yeah, I am! I have a pretty good plan,” said Sokka. He actually had no idea at all what he wanted to do, and the thought of making those decisions was a scary one. After three years of winter and summer exhibitions, it never got easier. He brought his canvas over to his easel and sighed. Maybe this new painting would work.

Sokka dipped a brush in a bottle of ink and started blocking out different shapes, referencing the sketches from the weekend. He stepped back, looked at his work, and grimaced. Okay, that wasn’t exactly what he meant. He dipped his brush again and tried to fix his lines, but to no avail. Ugh. He tinkered with the shapes on the canvas, even making a few more thumbnail sketches, but there seemed to be a disconnect between what was in his head and what he was doing. He hadn’t spent all of those years practicing, taking lessons, and reading books just to make the same shitty drawings he made when he was twelve. Before he knew it, the final bell rang. Sokka packed his stuff up, but he left it in the studio. He didn’t want to bring all of that home just to make himself more frustrated.

The halls filled with students getting ready to go home, and Sokka waited for Katara at an intersection. She always took a while — the dance instructors were very fond of telling their students that  _ they _ dismissed their classes, not the bell.

Oh, man. Off in the distance, by the music lockers, Sokka caught a glimpse of Zuko packing his tsungi horn into its case. Sokka wanted so badly to stand there and stare, or even to approach him, but instead, he ran out of eyeshot. 

“Hey, Sokka. What are you doing?” said Katara as she approached, duffle bag in hand.

“Oh, nothing. Don’t worry. Let’s get home,” Sokka said, marching toward the exit.

— 

Sokka didn’t remember anything about the drive, or any conversations he might have had with his sister and father when he got home. The next thing he knew, he was in his bed waking up to his alarm. It was time to go to school again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading!! I have the whole fic planned out already in pretty good detail, so chapters should go up pretty quickly! also, I mean for Hana, the art teacher, to be the herbalist from the blue spirit episode. she'll be fleshed out a little more later!


	3. Chapter 3

School today was essentially a repeat of yesterday. Everything — words, faces, surroundings — melted into muddled sludge. This was  _ weird _ . Sokka had been trying, ever since he stopped feeling normal, to figure out what was happening to him, but he kept drawing blanks. His best guess was that he was too stressed and needed more sleep, but this felt different from all of the other school stress he’d felt over the years. That was a lot of stress, too. When he was a first-year about to fail Drawing Fundamentals, which would lead to his expulsion from Ba Sing Se School of the Arts, he was scared that he would die. Whatever was happening now was a different feeling altogether. He did get another Zuko smile in physics today, though, so it wasn’t  _ all _ doom and gloom.

After school, Katara begged Sokka to take her to the tea shop. She was desperate for some mango fruit tea, and practice was so hard today… Sokka caved pretty easily, if only because he didn’t have the energy to put up a fight. They got in line behind a group of rowdy kids. They took forever ordering and paying, and Sokka couldn’t see or hear the person behind the counter. Sokka found himself praying for it to be Zuko, even though he felt his heart pounding louder than an entire percussion section at the thought. Before he could rescind those prayers, the group cleared away, and there was Zuko, glowing in the late-afternoon sunlight.

“Hello! What can I get started for you guys?”

Sokka was pretty close to Zuko, maybe closer than he’d ever been. He could see that Zuko’s face, below the customer service façade, was tense; he smiled with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Sokka felt a surge of sympathy. Poor Zuko. The idea of taking orders at a counter made Sokka nervous, and he couldn’t begin to imagine how scary it’d be for someone as reserved as Zuko. Man, Sokka wanted so badly to give him a hug.

Well, Sokka wanted so badly to simply approach Zuko, but his flirting track record was very sketchy. With everyone he’d ever been interested in — even Suki — Sokka  _ always _ messed up at least half of their interactions. “I’m thinking maybe we could… Do an activity together?” was a phrase that had actually come out of his mouth when he was talking to a girl a couple years back. They actually  _ did _ do a couple activities together, but it didn’t really work out. All that to say, the last thing he wanted was for Zuko to think he was a bumbling idiot, even if his bumbling idiocy had worked a couple of times.

Katara waited for Sokka to order, but he was lost in thought. She went ahead and asked for a mango fruit tea. Sokka wasn’t about to spend mental energy he didn’t have on his tea order, so he got his trusty taro. When Sokka reached for his wallet, Katara swatted his hand away.

“No. I’m paying.”

When they had gotten their drinks and were seated at a tiny table in the corner, Katara slammed her mango tea on the table without even putting the straw in.

“Sokka, you haven’t been acting like yourself lately. I’m really worried about you, and I don’t want it to get any worse. I think you should go to the doctor. We’re here because I thought it might cheer you up, but I also wanted to confront you in public so you don’t lose your shit.” 

Hmm. Katara was smart. But Sokka didn’t really feel like losing his shit. Sure, he felt a little indignant, upset that his little sister had to look out for him like this, but he also knew she was right. It’d be for the best.

Sokka sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I can talk to Dad tonight.”

Katara gave him a faint smile. “You’re handling this better than I thought you would.”

Did she think he was so conceited that he’d lose his mind at any implication he might not be okay? Sokka wanted to argue, but he couldn’t find it in him. He resigned himself to sipping his tea, but in a pissed-off way.

Katara had taken the seat facing away from the counter, leaving Sokka with a view of Zuko. He looked, occasionally. Maybe for a little too long. Once, he made eye contact with Zuko, then he looked away, as nonchalantly as he could. When Sokka looked again, he could have sworn Zuko was blushing. 

—

A few days later, Sokka found himself lingering at the intersection between the music and dance halls after school in hopes of catching a glimpse of Zuko. It couldn’t be  _ that  _ big of a deal; he was just standing in a specific place at a specific time. But it’d also be stupid to say it didn’t mean anything at all. Ugh. He didn’t know what to do — he really liked Zuko, and it had gotten to a point where a mere sighting of him would make him break out into a goofy smile.

_ Finally! _ Zuko appeared in the hallway. He sat down in front of the instrument lockers, dragged out a big plastic case, and gently laid his tsungi horn inside. And now Sokka was smiling like an idiot, for everyone around him to see. He tried to act natural.

Sokka felt a tap on his shoulder and jumped, terrified that someone had caught him staring. He turned around, expecting the worst, but it was just Katara.

“Hey, you don’t have to take me home, remember? You have your appointment.”

“Oh, yeah. Right.”

Sokka actually  _ had _ remembered; he was here for another reason. A reason that was walking straight toward him.

“Hey, Sokka,” Zuko said with a wave before heading for the front door.

_ Whoa _ .

—

It took at least an hour of waiting, a full physical exam, a bunch of random, invasive questions from the doctor who’d cared for him since he was child, all for Sokka to get a little slip of paper with the contact information for a certain Wang Fire. Sokka was going to go to therapy. Cool.

—

It was dark when Sokka got home, and he went over the details of his doctor’s appointment over a dinner of seaweed noodles. 

“I’m so glad you’re getting help,” said Katara.

Their father nodded. “Sokka, we’re here for you. I’ll help you make that appointment tomorrow.” When they had cleared the table, Katara and Hakoda gave Sokka some of the warmest, biggest hugs he’d ever had.

Sokka appreciated the support from his father and his sister, but he didn’t really know how to feel. He didn’t know what to do. All he could say was "thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaahh this chapter took a while to write. tbh I'm not the biggest fan of how this is going, but I am going to finish it! and hopefully improve. also I feel like the pacing is funky but I promise there will be real zukka action soon  
> if Wang Fire was Sokka. he isn't Sokka because he is. no he's not <3  
> also, feedback and kudos are appreciated!!!


	4. Chapter 4

The couch Sokka sat on was abnormally fluffy. It was pure white, and the texture was like curly koala sheep wool. Dr. Wang Fire sat opposite him in a chair covered in the same material. He was dressed in Fire Nation red all the way to the band on his topknot and had a huge, pointy beard and bushy eyebrows. His eyes were blue instead of the gold typical to Fire Nationals. He held a clipboard in one hand and ran the other through his beard. What an… interesting guy.

“So, what brings you here today?” Dr. Fire asked.

“Well…” said Sokka. Where was he supposed to start? “Um…”

Dr. Fire smiled knowingly. “Don’t worry, son. Let’s start with the basics. Tell me a little about yourself.” No matter how much Sokka racked his brain, he couldn’t pinpoint the man’s accent. His syllables were long and drawn out, especially his fourth-tones. Sokka decided he would stop worrying about it.

“Um… I’m Sokka, I’m seventeen, I go to the School of Fine Arts. I’ve lived in Ba Sing Se my whole life, but my parents are Water Tribe. I have a sister… And friends… Oh, I do painting, that’s my fine art, I used to be really bad at it, but I liked it, so I got good. And, um, school is really stressful… I’ve been feeling kind of weird lately, and my sister got worried. That’s kind of what brings me here today.”

“I see, I see.” Slapping the clipboard down on the coffee table in front of him, Dr. Fire used his other hand to twiddle his moustache. “Tell me a little more about this ‘weird’ you’ve been feeling.”

So Sokka did. Then Dr. Fire would ask him another question, then Sokka would respond… This was a lot less stressful than Sokka imagined it’d be. And a lot more  _ normal _ . Maybe he’d been worrying too much about how “weird” it’d be for him to go to therapy. Before he knew it, an hour had passed. He wasn’t completely clear on why he needed to do this, but if it would help him stop worrying his family, he would do it. 

—

What sucked was that the therapy didn’t make Sokka just stop feeling weird. It went from strange to scary to just plain annoying, and back around again. He was getting better at managing it, though, and some days were genuinely good again. 

He’d gotten started on his exhibition pieces. One of his subjects was a koala sheep, its fur shaped into a couch. It was about therapy, but no one had to know that. Art, to Sokka, was like an inside joke with himself. That was one of the reasons he loved it so much.

Talking to Katara, Toph, and Aang got easier again. They started going to get tea even  _ more _ often than they used to, and Sokka soon figured out that they were doing what friends did to friends who had crushes. Toph and Aang especially would giggle and punch him in the shoulder whenever Zuko was around, and Sokka had to pretend it was nothing, lest Zuko notice. 

Zuko and Sokka had started to talk more though, little by little; they exchanged greetings in physics class and smiled at each other in the hallway after school. Zuko learned that Sokka’s favorite order was taro, but instead of assuming he wanted it, he’d sometimes recommend other menu items. Sokka always tried them, and they were always good. This boy knew his tea.

When Sokka would flop down on his bed after a long day and his mind was clear enough to  _ think _ — which, thankfully, happened more and more often — his thoughts would go straight to Zuko. His crush had only gotten more severe with time. He kept his composure when he was around Zuko, but there in his bed, his heart would ache so deeply that he thought he would die. He had no idea how Zuko felt about him, but he feared the worst. He had a nightmare one night that Zuko approached him, said he’d heard about Sokka’s feelings for him, and couldn’t stand to be around him anymore. Sokka had woken up in a cold sweat. He hoped and prayed that the dream wasn’t prophetic.

The next day at school, though, something notable happened, that wasn’t at all in line with his dream. Sokka’s mind was clearer than it had been in days, and he was able to tell what people were saying, almost like normal. He had therapy that day, and he looked forward to telling Dr. Fire the good news.

During history, Sokka took another little trip past the bending gym. He was careful to stroll nonchalantly, not to linger. He strained his eyes to look through the window, but he only caught a tiny glimpse of Zuko. But damn, was it a nice glimpse. He grinned the whole way back to class.

“Hey, Sokka. What’s up?” Zuko said as Sokka slid into his desk. He smiled faintly, and it was unclear whether it was genuine or just polite.

“Not much. You?”

“Same here.”

Sokka stole as many more nice glimpses at Zuko as he could.

Predictably, Sokka was in the hallway after school, watching Zuko pack up his tsungi horn. He had no idea how many times he’d done this, but it was just as nice as the first time. He could take in this view forever. When the instrument was back in its locker, Zuko got up and headed toward Sokka. He looked different — his face was a bright red, and he looked… Scared? Soon, the two of them faced each other, well in earshot of each other.

Zuko swallowed visibly. Eyes wide, he held up a folded piece of paper. “Here. I want you to have this,” he said, then turned on his heel and speed-walked away.

Sokka stared at the paper in shock.

“What’s that?” came Katara’s voice from behind him.

“It’s… A phone number.”

Katara beamed and socked him in the shoulder. “I’m proud of you. Also, you’re not taking me home.”

“You think I was waiting for you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow. I really thought this chapter would come within, like, 2 days of the last one, and then one of the craziest months of my life happened. I'm back now, though! hopefully! sorry this one is short; the next one will be longer, I promise!
> 
> also, I'm realizing that I'm not going to be able to make this as angsty as I intended it to be. I shouldn't have expected my first shot at a multi-chapter to be my first shot at angst... so the title isn't really appropriate anymore, but I don't think I'm going to change it. just wanted to put that out there!
> 
> kudos and comments are always appreciated. thank you for reading! hopefully this will finish up soon, and I have oneshots and hopefully another multichapter of much better quality coming soon!


End file.
